Wishing on Stars
by Marie Chambers
Summary: He wanted her to leave a mark. He wanted to be marked by her. He wanted to be marked as hers. He wanted to belong to her and he wanted her to belong to him. He wanted a lot of things in fact: her hand in his and cuddling together and sharing lazy kisses and her wearing his sweatshirts and- But this was just a good shag between mates. That's all it was.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This plot bunny hit me the other day and I ended up writing 11,000 words of it. This part is short but the other 2-3 parts should be a lot longer. I'll probably put the next bit up tomorrow. Thanks to Bria, my lovely beta who tackled this monster for me. **

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**Wishing on Stars: Prologue**

Rose flopped down on his lumpy mattress and let out a long sigh. "I need to get laid."

John didn't bother to look up from where his eyes were focused on his textbook, but was unable to keep the frown from turning his lips downwards. Tonelessly, he said, "Then get laid."

Rose pursed her lips. "S'not so easy, you know." John wanted to disagree. He was positive there couldn't possibly be a short supply of men who wouldn't give an arm and a leg for a chance to shag Rose Tyler.

Instead of voicing these thoughts however, John rolled his eyes. Rose saw.

"It is!" she protested, her eyes narrowing at him. "I haven't been shagged in six months, John. Six! Not since Jimmy and he was rubbish, let me tell you. But after all the bullshit he put me through I really don't want to deal with all that relationship bullocks. I just want a shag! Is that too much to ask for?

John closed his eyes. Now probably wouldn't be the best time to mention that he hadn't had a shag for at least a good two years now. Especially since that was the exact amount of time he'd known her for. Yeah, now was probably one of those times he should keep his gob shut. Otherwise, before he knew it, he would be blurting out something stupid like the fact that wankers like Jimmy Stone didn't deserve her and that she shouldn't give up on relationships because of that tosser and that if she'd only just consider-

John sighed internally, derailing that train of thought before it could go any further into dangerous, _forbidden_ territory.

Rose leaned back until she was lying completely across the covers of his bed, her arms resting up behind her head. She stared up at his ceiling with contemplative eyes. John looked away, grumbling under his breath. Did she really need to stretch out like that across his bed while she complained about wanting a shag?

"Why is it so hard for a girl to get a nice unattached one night stand around here?"

John's mind flashed unwittingly to tangled sheets and limbs, soft sighs and moans, and naked, sweat soaked skin. Rose's body laid out bare for some other man's eyes to devour. His hands balled up by his side and he took in a calming breath, pushing the image from his mind and instead forced his lips to curl up into a smile that he hoped was convincing.

"It's hard is it?" John said with forced lightness. Rose sat up and threw a pillow at him.

"Stop being a child! This is serious!" Still, she was laughing and John gradually felt the edges of his smile smooth out into something a little more genuine.

"I'm sorry if I'm not giving your sexual frustrations the proper attention they deserve," he said defensively, teasingly. Then he froze, the color draining from his face as the words he'd just spoken registered to him. His ears began ringing and heating up simultaneously, a blush spreading across his freckled face. Not daring to even look at her, John began stammering.

"That's not- I mean I wasn't referring to- I don't think- I mean- Sorry...that didn't come out right and I..." John finally dared to meet her eyes and abruptly cut himself off when he saw the look in them.

She looked...intrigued. Her head cocked to the side as she scrutinized him in a way that made him fidget in his seat and sent his heart pounding in his chest, the blush only deepening on his pale skin. She licked her lips and John felt his brain go blank at the sight of her pink tongue.

"That's not," she said slowly, "a bad idea."

"What's not?" John squeaked. Then embarrassed, he coughed and tried again. "What's not?"

"You giving my sexual frustrations the attention they deserve," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, pushing a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. John made a noise that only sounded vaguely human, then searched her eyes, trying to decide if she was playing some cruel joke on him. To his surprise, he could find no humor or malicious intent in their depths. Her gaze was unwavering and completely serious, the whisky color captivating him just as it always did. John felt his stomach flip.

"I- I don't-" John looked at her helplessly, not having the slightest clue what the right thing to say was.

"Now listen," Rose said, suddenly becoming animated. "Just hear me out. This is a good idea!"

John actually thought it was a terrible idea, but wisely he kept his mouth shut.

"We're good friends, right? The best actually. I'd trust you with my life. And things don't have to get weird or complicated between us. Just a good shag between mates. And it's like, in all the time I've known you, John, I've never really seen you interested in anyone before." John had to hold back his weak protests by biting his tongue. "You're too focused on your studies, yeah? So this way you don't have to stress over any of the relationship nonsense either. It's a win-win."

"Yeah. A win-win," John said weakly.

Rose beamed. "So does that mean you're in?"

Was he in for having sex with Rose Tyler? Absolutely. Was he in for being her one-night stand or whatever it was that he was signing up for here? Not exactly. In fact, he craved her physically almost as much as he did emotionally. But she'd just made it perfectly clear that she wasn't looking for any kind of commitment or declaration. She'd also made it perfectly clear that she just saw him as a friend. Would it be wrong for him then, to under the circumstance, say yes? She wasn't looking for complicated after all and this had the potential to become very messy if he wasn't careful. Should he risk it then, just for the chance to be with her? Would he be able to remain satisfied with just this little bit that she was offering him? Should he be grateful that he was even getting this much? And if he were honest with himself, could he really turn her down, even if it would ultimately save him from the inevitable heartbreak that a situation like this was bound to cause?

In the end, his will power wasn't strong enough. Just the thought of having her in his sheets, _their_ limbs tangled together, her body laid out bare for _his_ eyes, was enough to do him in. Not trusting his voice, John nodded his head.

Rose bounded from his bed looking pleased. "Perfect! How about this Friday, then? We can get chips first."

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds good." John's voice was hoarse.

She gave him one last beaming smile before exiting his dorm room. When she was out of sight, John slumped down in his desk chair, letting his face fall into his hands.

What had he just agreed to?


	2. Chapter 2

**Wishing on Stars: Part 1**

Despite John's feelings that he'd made a horrible mistake in agreeing to this arrangement, he couldn't help the way the thought of Friday made him feel inexplicably excited. Finally, he was going to be with Rose the way he had been desiring to since the day he'd met her. Or well, close enough that is.

The week dragged by slowly for John, his mind wandering often during his lectures. He thought obsessively of what it would be like to finally be inside her, to be as close to her as one could possibly be. What it would be like to hear her moan and gasp in pleasure. To see her face when she fell apart.

John took all the necessary preparations for their night, wanting it to be perfect. He stocked up on condoms, making sure they were stuffed away in an accessible place. He cleaned up his dorm, washing his sheets and picking up loose laundry on the floor. He made sure his roommate would keep himself scarce that night. He called Donna and promptly freaked out for twenty minutes until she calmed him down. All there left to do now was wait.

He hardly saw Rose through the week and he wasn't sure if she was doing it on purpose as some way to amp up what they would be doing later, or if she just so happened to be busy. Either way, his stomach tied up into knots every time he thought about her, so he didn't think that, under the circumstance, it would be wise to go out of his way to track her down like he normally might.

On Thursday, however, she shot him a quick text confirming that they would still be getting chips tomorrow, letting him know that she hadn't yet changed her mind on their plans. John's fingers were shaking so badly as he tried to send his reply back that it took him three tries to type out anything coherent.

John didn't sleep much that night, too much nervous energy coursing through his body. When morning came along, he penned in a time to take a short nap before they went out for chips, wanting to be well-rested enough for when they...He still could hardly think about what they would be doing later tonight without his mind going hazy around the edges.

As the time he was supposed to meet her began approaching, John changed into a pair of dark wash jeans that she'd once told him made his bum look good. And the whole time he was pulling them up and over his slim hips, he tried to convince himself that he had chosen them at random and not out of conscious thought as had been the case. He also wore a slim fitting t-shirt, deciding to go light on the layers, _considering_. He carefully ran his fingers through his hair, styling it to his preferred effortless look, and then swallowed hard when he thought about what it would be like when it was _her_ fingers scraping at his scalp. Finally, he grabbed his keys and walked out of his room to begin his trek towards the chippy he had frequented with Rose a hundred times before. But this, John knew, would not be like any of those times.

He got there earlier than her, just as he'd planned, and ordered their chips, dumping salt and vinegar on them in just the way she liked. Then his foot began to tap restlessly on the linoleum floor as he waited for her to arrive. What if she had changed her mind? Realized what a bad idea this was? His hands felt clammy and his head was swimming with both doubts and the possibilities of what tonight might entail. John had never felt so close to puking in his life.

She entered the chip shop, a flash of blonde hair, bright eyes, and a wide smile. She was wearing a summery, yellow dress, the end of which was just skimming her creamy thighs, the bodice clinging tantalizingly to her curves. Her hair was wavy and her make-up light and easy, her lips painted a light pink color that attracted attention to her mouth. John had to physically restrain himself from letting his jaw drop as he took her in. She slid into the booth with him, an air of total ease surrounding her while he, himself, felt like his heart was trying to trip right out of his chest. She gave him a knowing smile and then nodded to the chips.

"You ordered already then?"

John nodded, his throat still not working correctly. "Mmm," she said, picking up a chip and popping it into her mouth. A groan slid past her plump, pink lips. "Oh these're gorgeous." John's stomach clenched and he had to withhold a groan of his own as he watched her lick the excess salt and vinegar from her fingers. His eyes were transfixed on her, unable to look away even if he tried. Slowly she met his gaze, her own eyes hooded, and John had to suppress another groan. The little tease knew exactly what she was doing.

"Are you going to eat, John?" she asked, gesturing towards the chips, her eyes black with desire. "Gotta keep your energy up if you want to keep up with me tonight after all." Her voice had dropped to a husky whisper, and with this direct reference to the night ahead of them, John could no longer take it. A violent blush overtook his face and his eyes dropped to the checkered tablecloth. All she'd done was give him a few heated glances and spoken a few sultry sentences and already he could feel the arousal pounding in his veins.

When he forced himself to look back up again, Rose's eyebrows had furrowed in concern, the dark look in her eye all but gone. "Are you all right?" she asked him, biting her lip.

"Fine," he said, just the slightest bit out of breath. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure you haven't changed your mind? You can tell me if you have." She was biting her thumbnail now.

"No." His reply came just a touch too quickly. He cleared his throat. "No, no. I haven't changed my mind." _Definitely not._

"Good," she said, and that predatory look was back in her eyes, searing him. "Because I've been thinking about this all week." She picked up another chip, popping it in her mouth in a way that shouldn't have been as attractive as it was. John felt a whimper building up in the back of his throat at the combination of her teasing words and actions. She was going to be the death of him.

"H-have you?" Surely, his voice couldn't physically reach the octave he'd just somehow achieved. Rose chuckled, the sound low and gravely. John felt himself twitch in his trousers, almost as if the sound had somehow had a direct line to his cock. He had to shove a few chips in his mouth to disguise the beginnings of another groan.

"I have," she confirmed just as John felt the lightest pressure against his ankle. He jumped at the unexpected contact and Rose's grin went as wide as the Cheshire Cat's. Then she leaned closer, her bare foot deftly slipping up under the cuff of his jeans to press against his skin.

John was going to go insane if he didn't gain back some kind of ground here, so clearing his throat, he leaned a little closer as well and whispered, "What exactly did you think about, Rose?"

Her eyes were like liquid fire, her smile dripping in sin, and her foot slipped back out in order to move higher up his leg. "I've thought," she said slowly, licking her lips, "about your cock inside of me. I've thought about riding you until we both can't take it anymore." Her foot inched another fraction upwards and John thanked all the gods he didn't believe in that this chip shop had tables adorned in table cloth.

"Fuck, Rose," he hissed as her words washed over him like a physical caress, his forehead erupting in perspiration.

"Are you hard right now?"

"_God_ yes," he said, embarrassment a thing of the past.

"Good, because I am very, very wet."

John stood up abruptly, her foot dislodging from where it had been stroking along his calf. If he wasn't inside her soon, then things were going to get very sticky in his favorite pair of jeans. John held out his hand for her and she took it, smirking at him. He wanted to kiss the look right of her face.

"Time to go already?" she asked innocently, and John growled, properly growled and tightened his hand on hers, pulling her along. His body was taut with tension, arousal coursing through him, his cock straining against the confining fabric of his jeans. _God_, did he want her.

The walk back to his dorm room was a short one, but to John it was agonizing. He was hyperaware of the woman next to him. He could hear the way her dress was shifting around her thighs as she walked, feel the press of her side against his, feel the way her thumb stroked against the back of his hand, hear the way she was breathing almost as heavily as he was.

They got to his dorm room and he fumbled with getting the door unlocked, his hands shaking in eagerness, until finally Rose had to take the key away from him, giggling the whole while. However, when they got inside her giggling stopped quite abruptly when he pressed her against his door, fitting his body to hers in order to hold her in place as his mouth came crashing down.

She responded immediately, widening her stance so that his hips could fit in the cradle of her thighs, opening her mouth under the assault of his tongue, her hands coming up to tangle in the mass of his brown hair, just like he'd imagined earlier. She scraped his scalp, once, twice, then her nails raked down his back, slipping up underneath his light t-shirt, coming in contact with his skin. John groaned against her mouth, pressing closer.

Rose's mouth migrated away from his eliciting a whimper from John that quickly turned into a groan as her mouth began traveling down the length of his neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh, but careful not to leave a mark.

He wanted her to leave a mark. He wanted to be marked by her. He wanted to be marked _as_ hers. He wanted to belong to her and he wanted her to belong to him. He wanted a lot of things in fact: her hand in his and cuddling together and sharing lazy kisses and her wearing his sweatshirts and-

John pushed those thoughts violently away, scolding himself for his attachment. Carefully, he worked to build his resolve back up, to focus on what this was about and not what he wanted. This was sex, that's all it was, and it would be good for him to remember that.

Getting back into the moment wasn't difficult as Rose's hand had migrated down to his jean-clad bum, giving him a gentle squeeze that caused his hips to rock forward against hers. He felt that smirk again, against his neck, and this time he didn't have to hold himself back from kissing the look off her face.

As he worked her mouth, John allowed one of his hands to fall on her waist and begin a trek down her side until he reached the teasing hem of her dress. He felt Rose's lips stutter against his as he slipped his hand up underneath so that he was touching her bare thigh. Now it was John's turn to smirk as he slowly inched his hand up the curving skin, waiting to come into contact with the side of her knickers so he could yank them off.

He didn't.

John broke the kiss abruptly. "You're not wearing any knickers," he said in a scandalized tone. Rose's lips quirked into a playful smile and the hand that had been resting on his bum moved upwards so that she could slip it down the back side of both his jeans and pants, touching his bare skin. With this new leverage, Rose pulled, making him stumble slightly closer so that he was leaning over her. Then he felt the soft brush of her lips teasing at his ear.

"I suppose I'm not. What're you going to do about it?" Her teeth dragged against his earlobe.

John growled, tired of her teasing him. He needed to gain back ground, get under her skin the way that she was under his. In a quick flash, John used his free hand to pin both her arms above her head in order to begin another assault on her mouth. Meanwhile, his hand, the one that still rested under her dress in the vicinity of her thigh, moved slowly inward and upwards, trailing intricate patterns along the soft, inner skin of her thigh. Rose's head fell back against the wall with a small thud and John followed, keeping their mouths attached as his tongue slid wetly against hers.

When he broke the kiss, Rose was panting heavily, her gaze black and hooded and her lips red and swollen. John memorized the look, wondering if he'd ever get to see it again. They hadn't discussed anything past this night after all; there were no guarantees.

He was just going to have to make the most of it.

So, biting down on the passion that was roaring through him, John focused on slowing things down. He pulled his hand out from her dress (Rose issuing a noise of protest at this) and then leaned in to beginning kissing her again, slower. When they broke apart this time Rose was looking up at him, a question in her gaze. John cleared his throats and brought his free hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Then slowly, he trailed his same hand down her neck until he reached the thin strap of her dress.

"Off," he said in no more than a whisper.

Rose caught on quickly to the shift in pace, and brought her hands up to slowly slide the straps from her shoulders, looking up at him underneath her eyelashes all the while. The dress pooled into a puddle at her feet.

She didn't have a bra on either, John discovered as he allowed his eyes to slowly sweep her form. He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, exquisite even. In all the times he had imagined this moment the words had fell so easily off his tongue. Now they were choking him.

"You too," Rose said quietly, interrupting his thoughts, her eyes unfathomable as she stared at him. "Off."

John nodded and gripped the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it in a few quick jerks over his head. Rose's hands had already dove to the button of his jean, eliciting a hiss from him as she brushed (quite purposely, he thought) against his erection. It wasn't long before both his jeans and pants had found their way to the floor to join her dress.

Rose stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms back around him, her lips finding his again and his cock resting comfortably between their bodies. Rose's hands found their way back to his hair, stroking his scalp. He sighed against her mouth and began moving them towards his bed.

He fell backwards, her landing on top, straddling him. She'd implied in the chip shop that she wanted to be on top, and John was nothing if not obliging. Besides, he wasn't sure of the rules at this point, wasn't sure what was and wasn't allowed so it was best to let her show him.

Rose began marking a path down his chest with her mouth, sucking and nibbling at his skin, taking a nipple in between her teeth. Her fingers roamed his stomach, making the muscles jump involuntarily and he felt Rose grin against him as they did. John remained passive, focusing on his breathing and on not overstepping any bounds. After a moment however he felt Rose huff against him, the air only stimulating him further as it cooled the wet paths her mouth had just marked.

"Touch me," she commanded.

He didn't need to be told twice. He reached out towards her, his hands coming to rest safely on her waist. Then gently he began stroking along her skin, skimming the sides of her breasts (magnificent breasts, he might add). Then branching his thumbs out, he allowed himself to caress her nipples, feeling them pucker up underneath his touch. Rose's answering moan vibrated against the crook of his neck.

John teased her nipples for a moment more before grasping one breast fully, feeling its weight in his palm and then gently kneading the skin. Rose was panting now, soft little noise that made John grin smugly.

Then she was grabbing his hand, leading it down to where she really wanted it. "I think that's enough teasing," she said, as she slid his fingers through her wetness.

John groaned at the warmth that greeted him. Rose's hips were making small swivel movements as he explored her, seeking more friction from him. John pumped a finger inside her, delighting at the keening noise she made as he set a rhythm. He was soon adding another finger and another at her request, moving harder and faster inside her. She keened, riding his fingers with increasing intensity, her jaw slackening and eyes squeezing shut. He swiped his thumb over her clit, moving in quick tight circles, and her hips jerked hard in response. Then she was coming, her inner muscles clenching and clenching around his fingers spasmodically. John watched, completely enthralled, as she threw her head back and let her lips part in a wordless cry.

He brought her back down with gentle thrusts of his fingers, watching her face closely as it slowly relaxed into a blissful expression. Her eyes opened and she met his gaze with a dopey look that made John's stomach flutter.

"Good?" he asked gently.

"Very good," she said, still slightly out of breath. "You have very adept fingers. Like a Doctor."

This threw John completely and he looked up at her quizzically. "A Doctor?"

"Yeah," she said, blowing a piece of hair off her sweaty forehead. "A Doctor, you know. Got to be all...precise for, umm, surgery and stuff."

John burst out laughing and Rose swatted him against the shoulder. "Shut up," she said, "my mind's still feeling a bit hazy after that."

John smirked. "Is that what you're going to call me from now on then? Doctor?"

"Might do," she said, flicking her tongue out between her teeth. "That way, every time I do, you'll be reminded of this." Lightning fast, her hand reached down to grasp his cock, giving it one firm stroke down. John's eyes rolled back into his head.

Rose grinned as John's hips bean rocking up to meet her hand. She continued teasing him, her grip loose and light as she caressed his cock. It wasn't long before he was begging her to speed up, to move faster, harder. Rose obliged, and John nearly choked as his orgasm began swiftly approaching under her skilled ministrations. Just as he couldn't take it anymore, John brought his hand up to stop hers, his voice cracking out a hoarse, "Enough."

Rose nodded understandingly, then asked, "Condoms?"

"Bedside drawer."

Rose reached over and pulled out the brand new, unopened box. "You buy these just for me?" she asked, teasingly.

John blushed. "Maybe."

Rose looked towards the box of condoms then back to him, her face curious. She opened her mouth presumably to ask something, thought better of it and then looked down again to focus tearing into the box. She pulled out a square of foil, ripped it open with her teeth and then began moving back over him, condom in hand. Slowly, she rolled it over him, all the while never breaking eye contact. John's heart stuttered in his chest.

"There," she said. "Now how do you want to do this?"

"Umm, well, I mean..You said in the chip shop that you wanted to...?"

"Mmm, is that what you want, though?"

"I want whatever you want," he said honestly. Rose's head snapped up at this and John ducked his eyes from her piercing look.

"Yeah?" Her voice sounded breathless. He nodded.

"Right." Carefully, she aligned them, then slowly she sank down. John had to restrain himself from bucking up into her. The feeling of being wrapped in her heat was overwhelmingly good. It had been way too long for him, and now finally he was living out every fantasy he'd ever had in the last two years.

Once she was fully seated, she paused, her eyes shut in concentration. John lightly touched her cheek. "Okay?" he asked.

"Fuck, yeah. You feel good."

"Yeah," John said in a strained voice. "So do you." Hesitantly, he reached out and placed his hands on her waist, stroking his thumb over the skin there. "Are-are you, umm, ready then?"

A second later and Rose was nodding her head. John let out a shuddery sigh and then with the support of his hands, Rose was rising up and then plunging back down on him.

John threw his head back into the pillow as the intensity of the feeling washed over him. Above him, he heard Rose moan. From there they dissolved into guttural moans and sweat-soaked skin, with Rose shouting out the odd expletive when he hit a particularly good spot. John had to focus all his will power on not coming too early as he guided her at a quickening pace up and down his length. It wasn't long, however, before John felt the pressure building up to its boiling point.

"Rose, Rose," he panted. "Are you-are you close?"

She keened. "Yeah, yeah almost just-" she trailed off, grabbing one of his hands to guide it towards her clit. John began rubbing the small bud in tight, fast circles the same rhythm he'd used earlier, hoping to tip her over the edge before he lost all control.

Rose was slamming down roughly now on every stroke, all finesse lost as she chased her release. A few more thrusts and he felt her walls tighten around him like a vice, the muscles clenching rhythmically around his cock. Rose cried out, her body shuddering with her climax. John was so close now, his body wound tight like a bow string. Shifting underneath her, he encouraged her to keep moving on top of him. Just a few more thrusts and...

"Come," Rose said, her hips slamming down to meet his. "Come. _Doctor_, come."

Who was he to deny her? His body spasmed and he came so hard he saw stars burst behind his eyelids.

When he came to again, Rose was stroking a fingertip idly on his chest. Then their eyes met and she smiled that tongue-touched smile of hers and John couldn't help grinning back.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello."

They both giggled breathlessly.

"I can't believe we just did that," Rose said. John froze, unable to help the sharp feeling of panic that shot through him at her words.

"Do-do you regret it?" he asked, wondering how on Earth he was going to be able to live with himself if she did. Rose rolled her eyes at him.

"Not a bit," she said, giving him a quick peck. "That was a rather fantastic shag after all."

That word brought John crashing back down from his high. It was like ice water shooting through his veins, washing away the warmth and happiness he'd just been feeling. A _Shag_. Right. Just a shag. That's all this had been.

Rose sighed and began pushing herself up from his bed. "Well then, I should probably be getting back to my dorm."

John swallowed and nodded, not trusting his voice. The word _stay_ felt heavy on his tongue and he didn't trust himself not to blurt it out. In all his fantasies, he had imagined falling asleep with his arms wrapped around her afterwards, his nose nestled in her hair and their bodies pressed closely together.

Rose stood up fully then and stretched, her naked body washed in the moonlight that was peering in from his window. John couldn't help but stare at her in awe, committing the sight to his memory, not wanting to forget a single curve of her body.

Rose moved to pick up her dress from the ground, pulling the light fabric over her head until it was settled in place.

John tore his eyes away from her and busied himself with disposing of the condom, feeling the beginning tendrils of awkwardness weaving its way into the room.

Rose let out a huff. "Hey now. None of this," she said, moving her way towards him as he focused on pulling his pants back on. "We said we weren't going to let it be weird, right?"

John's shoulders sagged. "You're right. Sorry."

Rose brightened up. "Good, because I expect a repeat performance, Doctor."

John's head whipped up in surprise, his heart beginning to thud rapidly in his chest. "Repeat?" he squeaked.

Rose's eyes furrowed, and she suddenly looked unsure of herself. "Well yeah, I mean, don't you want to?"

"Of course I do," John said, just a little too quickly.

"Hmm, good. Glad that's settled then." She took a step towards him. "Here. Come here."

He obliged, stepping closer to her. She then wound her arms around his neck, giving him a hug. His hands settled around her waist, squeezing back. "There see. Zero weirdness. You're still my best friend, yeah?"

"Yeah," he said thickly.

"Good, now I'll see you tomorrow." Rose cast him one last small smile and then turned to leave. Before he could help himself, however, John spoke up. "Hey, Rose?"

She turned back to him. "Yeah?"

"I...well, I was just wondering you see- you just had this weird look on your face when I said that I, well, bought the condoms for tonight," _you_ "and it...it looked like you wanted to ask me something?" John's heart was pounding in his chest. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to ask her, but something told him he had to know what her answer would be. What that look had meant.

"Oh, it was nothing." She shrugged. "Really. I just...I was just going to ask when the last time it was that you had...you know? But it's none of my business," she said quickly when his eyes slipped from hers.

"No, it's fine. I...I don't mind telling you. It was, umm, back before I knew you actually. There was, well- she was a foreign exchange student. From France. Reinette, her name was. But it...I found out she was cheating on me, so..." John shrugged.

Rose's eyes furrowed in concern. "I'm sorry."

"No, no. It was a while ago. I'm fine. It was for the best anyway. That we broke up, I mean."

Rose nodded, biting her lip and then suddenly her eyes hardened. "This is why this arrangement is going to be perfect, John. We don't need to deal with all the Reinettes and Jimmys in the world. This way we don't get hurt."

John closed his eyes, took in a shuddering breath, then opened them again to meet her eyes. "Yeah, it's...it's good. Really...good."

Rose nodded as if sealing the deal, as if signing the contract to their pact. Then she walked out the door, her hips lightly swaying. John flopped back down on his bed and let out a long sigh. He stared up at the little plastic stars that clung to his ceiling, glowing dimly in the dark of his room. One by one he counted them, wondering how many wishes he had made on them that had just been crushed by her words.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Shout out to Bria for the beta! **

* * *

**Wishing on Stars: Part 2**

It was a few days later that they found themselves in her dorm room, soft pink bed sheets, plush carpets, and numerous photos the backdrop to their fucking. She had him against the wall this time, her hands just beginning their trek down to the front of his trousers, palming his growing bulge through the denim. His hips rose to meet her hand, the groan slipping past his lips. She smiled and whispered filth in his ear, causing his hips to press harder against her palm. Then she was unzipping the fabric, parting it so that she could push it from his hips. His shirt buttons were still half undone due to her impatience, the tails hanging loose. His glasses were perched low on his nose, watching with rapt attention the progress of her hand as she divested him of his clothing. She, herself, was down to her bra and knickers and John longed to strip them off her body, to expose her to his gaze, but somewhere along the way, his hands had lost the ability to function correctly.

She eased the soft, cotton fabric of his pants over his straining erection next, careful not to touch him. He whined in the back of his throat, wanting her hands upon him, stroking him, caressing him. They hadn't explored each other much that other night, not as much as he'd dreamt about at least. He was still shaky on the rules, not wanting to push her too far if all she was really looking for was a quick shag to relieve the tension. No matter that he longed to explore her body for hours with lips, and teeth, and tongue.

His pants hit the floor, and he gingerly stepped out of them at her prompting. Then Rose began trailing her hand up his thigh, moving through the silky hair of his leg, scratching at the sensitive skin. His cock twitched and she grinned filthily before she quite suddenly, with no warning at all, dropped to her knees. Inanely the first thing he thought of was that he was very thankful for those nice, plush rugs of hers. After that all thought flew from his mind as her hands came up to brace against his legs and her mouth came in contact with the skin of his hipbone. She first licked at the taut skin, and then sucked it into her mouth. Hard. John's eyes drifted shut and his mouth parted in a breathless sound as he realized that this would most definitely darken into a purple bruise on his hip, evidence to what they are doing. That thought was enough to make him groan.

He felt her smile against his skin, giving the developing mark one last kiss before she was moving her mouth to where he needed it most. John trembled as he felt her breath play over his tip, warm and wet and tantalizing. She looked up at him, her eyes nearly black and then abruptly she took just the head of him into her mouth, lightly sucking on the sensitive skin. John couldn't help the way he cried out, the way his legs began quaking underneath her hands, even at this light stimulation.

"Rose, Rose," he panted, gently resting his hands on her head, lightly pushing her back. She looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

"What is it?"

"You don't- I didn't know this was a part of the deal," he finally settled on, his voice cracking only a little over the words.

At this her eyes softened and he felt her thumb brush tenderly over the inner skin of his thigh. "There aren't any rules. Not really. Besides I want to." She blushed. "I like it."

John's mouth went dry and he couldn't find words to answer her with.

Rose was looking at him with concern now. "Do _you_ want me to?"

John sucked in a breath and then hesitantly, he nodded.

"Hmm," Rose said, her eyes falling back down to his cock. "Well, I don't think you'll regret it." Then her mouth was descending on him once again.

John's mind scattered at the sensation, his thoughts flying in every direction as she began bobbing up and down on him, taking him deeper and deeper until he was hitting the back of her throat on almost every pass. His hands twitched against his side, itching to get caught in the strands of her hair, to lightly direct her movements on him. Instead, he pressed them against the wall behind him to tamp down on the impulse.

Her mouth steadily got more insistent as she worked, sucking harder and harder until his vision began going black around the edges and his toes began curling.

"Rose...I-" It was the only warning he could give before he spilled into her mouth, his legs nearly giving out on him under the onslaught of his orgasm. Rose took it in stride, swallowing him down in one smooth motion before getting back to her feet in order to press her lips to his. He groaned as he tasted himself on her mouth, wrapping his arms tightly around her body so that they were completely pressed together, hip to hip and thigh to thigh.

It wasn't long after that before they were spread out across her bed, him driving into her as she groaned out long and low, _Doctor_, over and over again.

* * *

By the third time it was him buried between her thighs, one of her legs thrown over his shoulder and her hands clenched tight in his hair as a litany of curse words fell from her mouth.

By the eighth time they had fallen into a stride, their rhythm matching and bodies syncing up.

By the twelfth time they had pretty much established that they were really, really good at fucking one another.

By the fifteenth time John knew he was completely and utterly lost.

* * *

Getting "chips" together was their code word for sex over the next few months as they continued with their arrangement. She would shoot him a text asking him to meet her at their favorite chippy and more often than not (and most certainly against his better judgment) he would drop what he was doing and make the short walk to the chip place, the whole while telling himself to end this before it got more out of hand than it already was. But every time he came face to face with her again, every time she turned that smile on him, the infuriating one with her tongue caught between her teeth, he'd feel any resolve he had whipped up crumbling. She'd then proceed to tease him, just like that first night, right up until he couldn't take it anymore and they'd find themselves back in his dorm, or hers on occasion, flat on their backs and soaking in the afterglow. Then after a few brief moments she'd pick herself up, get dressed and leave him a little more hopelessly in love with her than before. That was the pattern: they'd eat, they'd fuck, they'd smile and when she left John would peel another plastic star off of his ceiling.

_Doctor_ ended up sticking. She'd cry it out when she came. She'd whisper it in his ear and against the skin of his neck. She'd pant it rhythmically as he pounded into her or in breathless whispers when they rocked together. He couldn't deny that he rather liked the nickname, this persona she'd created for him in the bedroom. For the most part it stroked his arousal and sent him into mind-blowing orgasms, the syllables curling around her tongue and tripping him into oblivion. However he couldn't help but wonder at times if she did it on purpose as some way to distance herself to the fact that she was sleeping with _him_. He'd give anything to at least once hear her cry out his real name as she came; to hear a breathless _John_ on her lips.

He remembered the naivety he'd gone into their arrangement with, the way he'd thought he'd be able to handle being with her without _actually_ being with her. The way he thought that satisfying one need would be enough to help him ignore the other; the need for her hand to hold.

And now he was in too deep, just like he'd feared would happen. He'd become addicted, captivated by her smiles and the sway of her hips and the way she felt moving on top of him, under him, around him.

He didn't know how long he'd be able to keep this up. How long he'd be able to bury the fact that he was quite distressingly in love with her. Clawing his way back out was no longer an option; there was nothing to do now, but to fall deeper and deeper and hope that there would still be pieces of himself to pick back up when he hit the bottom.

He lived in fear of the day she would no longer need him the way he was desperately coming to need her. It made his stomach turn just thinking about it, the way she could so easily send his world crashing down around him with no effort at all.

He didn't know how long he could keep this up and he especially didn't know how to stop.

* * *

"I think you're being a little dramatic."

"_Donna_."

"Well, I mean seriously. C'mon John. How many guys would kill to be in your position right now?"

John grumbled under his breath and took a rather aggressive bite out of his sandwich. Donna leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're not being very helpful or sympathetic of my plight."

Donna snorted. "You're plight? Seriously? Oh yes, I feel so much sympathy for the fact that you're currently banging the woman you're in love with."

John's face went completely red. "Donna!"

"I call them as I see them."

John slumped in his chair starting to wonder if consulting her had been the best idea. As much as he loved Donna, she was a real kick to the ego at times and at the moment his ego was already feeling pretty lousy. At his defeated look, Donna's eyes softened.

"Look, you really want my advice? You've been in love with her since the day you met her. The whole world knows that at this point. It's all 'Rose is brilliant' this and 'Rose is perfect' that and let's hold hands and give each other random hugs and engage in ridiculous amounts of PDA together. I mean you practically worship the ground she walks on. We get it, John. Now why don't you stop being a big dumbo and just tell her that you're in love her."

"But that's...She doesn't want that, Donna. That's the point. She said this was better because it was...uncomplicated. She doesn't want to get hurt again. Remember what Jimmy did? He...he humiliated her. Do you remember how she was after that? She would barely say two words to me for...for weeks."

There was a moment of silence between them before Donna's face gained a thoughtful look, then suddenly she was leaning closer to him across the table. John instinctively copied her motion. "Do you know what you have to do then?" she asked.

"What's that?"

"You're going to have to prove to her that she can trust you. That you aren't going to hurt her like he did."

John looked skeptical. "Do you really think that will work? Maybe she...maybe she's just not interested in me in that way."

Donna rolled her eyes. "There's got to be something about your skinny arse she likes or else she wouldn't be shagging ya."

John groaned, his face falling in his hands. "Donna, can we leave my skinny arse out of this?"

"Do you want my help or not, spaceman?"

"I'm starting to wonder that myself."

Donna's eyebrows both hit her forehead at this and she stood up as if to leave. Panicking, John held out his hands and said, "Fine, you win! Yes, yes I want your help."

Donna made a big show about sitting back down, John rolling his eyes the whole time. Once she was seated she took in a breath. "Now listen. Rose cares about you. And I'd go so far as to say that it isn't in a completely platonic and friendly way. Not with how you two are. You're both just too oblivious to realize it. Oblivious idiots, the pair of you."

John sighed. "I don't know about that, Donna. It's all...none of this is how I imagined it." He looked down towards the table in front of him, tracing absent-minded patterns on the surface as thoughts tumbled around his head. Donna was wrong. She hadn't seen how it was between them. Not really, not this. She didn't understand that there was no way, based on the evidence, that Rose felt anything more for him than friendship.

When he finally met Donna's eyes again, her face had finally gained a look of sympathy. "This is really eating you up, isn't it?"

John didn't answer, but that in itself was answer enough.

Donna took his hand from across the table, squeezing it. He squeezed back gratefully. "John, everything's going to work out alright. I know it doesn't seem like it will, but don't give up hope."

John felt the ghost of a smile cross his lips, even as his eyes watered. Just a little. In a manly kind of way. "Never," he said. "I quite like hope after all."

Donna squeezed his hand once more before letting go. "Good, now after you pay for this," she gestured between their lunches, "we are going to go hit a pub and get drunk off our arses to celebrate the fact that you are actually getting some."

"_Donna_."

She smiled and gave him a playful shove.

* * *

Rose licked her lips above him, her smile turning wicked as her fingers caressed across his bare shoulder, moving down his arm until she reached his hand. She loosely linked their fingers together, her palm over the back of his, and then wrapped their conjoined hands around his exposed cock. She moved their hands down on his erection in one hard, smooth motion before pulling her own hand away and drinking in the sight with hungry eyes.

"I want to watch you," she said.

John felt himself swallow, one hand still tight on his cock, and a blush beginning to make it's way down his face to his chest. Her eyes followed the reddening of his skin. "You want me to get myself off?"

Rose nodded eagerly from her perch on his thighs.

Discomfort knotted inside John's chest. They had admittedly had a substantial amount of sex over the past few months, but something felt especially vulnerable about exposing himself to her in this way. To get lost in his own pleasure while she watched him.

She sensed his hesitation. "If it'd make you feel uncomfortable you don't have to. It was just an idea."

John sucked in a breath, debating. It wasn't that the thought was particularly abhorrent. On the contrary, excitement was already beginning to pool in his stomach as he imagined it. This was all about trust after all. Trust between partners. And that was ultimately what he had been wanting over the past few weeks, wasn't it? To build up her trust in him. And what better way to build up that trust than to show that he trusted _her_. It was a two-way street after all, even if he felt he had so much more to lose.

Still, he had to try.

John closed his eyes and completed the stroke she'd started with him. He heard Rose's breath hitch, felt her shifting on him, rubbing minutely against his leg and this encouraged him on. It made his grip tighten, made his hand speed up as he began the familiar rhythm.

Rose wasn't silent, not with the way she liked to tease him. Dirty words fell from her lips, encouragement and profanity. Then, "What do you like to think about, Doctor? When you do this by yourself? What do you think about?"

His pace stuttered, just the slightest bit at her question and John felt the air leave his lungs as the 'you' that was trying to work its way past his lips threatened to escape. John covered the sound with a whimper.

Rose's nails dragged against his thigh and she leaned down to get a little closer, her breath playing over him. "Tell me. What do you think about?"

He was trembling lightly, his hand moving faster and his eyes struggling to open so he could read the expression on her face. "I," he tried, "I think about..." His jaw locked up as his thumb brushed the sensitive head. A shuddery moan ended his sentence.

"Doctor," she said, and it sounded like a warning. John felt another groan building up. "_Tell_ me."

_Trust_, John thought, just as he blurted out, "You. I think about you."

There was silence, and John felt his hand begin to slow as panic worked its way into his system.

"Don't," Rose said and John's heart ceased beating. "Don't _stop_."

His heart took off again at a galloping pace, blood pumping loudly in his veins and obediently John resumed his movements, building up his rhythm again in no time.

"So you've thought about me. What about before this all started? Then too?" There was heat burning in her gaze and it felt like it was burning him too. John steeled his nerves.

"Yes, yes. I...yes, then too."

Rose smiled and John felt like he could breathe again. "I may have had a few fantasies about you as well over the past few years," she said in a low voice. John's cock throbbed in his hand and he groaned, feeling himself getting closer to his release.

"S-show me," he stuttered out, his eyes dropping to the apex of her thighs.

Hesitation played across her features, much like it must have played across his earlier. He watched the emotions flicker in her eyes, almost too swift for him to catch. John wasn't even breathing. Then her hand began inching down her stomach, her eyes looking at him through thick, black lashes. She began fast, with slick circles on her clit, working herself faster until she was matching his pace.

He wasn't surprised when he got there first, his head flinging sideways on his pillow, breaking the eye contact as a long moan was pulled from his lips, his eyes squeezing shut and his body tensing with release. The pleasure weaved down his spine in dizzying patterns and when his eyes had finally regained vision, he looked up to catch a glance at the remaining stars that adorned his ceiling. John smiled, fancying that maybe for the moment they were shining just a bit brighter.

Rose was getting closer. John could tell by the way her face was scrunching up adorably and her mouth was hung open, her chest heaving. Beautiful.

"Come, Rose," he said softly.

When she did, she shined brighter than any star.

Rose was gone from his dorm room not ten minutes later. Dressed and put back together, her eyes unreadable and the glow on her skin eclipsed by the mask she had put back in place. Both of them back to their separate worlds.

John's hope burned out like a star going supernova: hot and bright and then...nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: As always thanks to Bria for the Beta. This is the last chapter and I hope everyone likes it :)**

* * *

**Wishing on Stars: Part 3**

They were in the library studying together not a week later, the smell of ink permeating their nostrils, and the subtle shifts of pages turning serving as background noise while they worked.

In these moments, in quiet moments when they simply basked in being in one another's presence (with all their clothes still firmly on their bodies) he became John to her again; no flirtation, no darkened gaze, no teasing. Just John: her slightly geeky best friend. The thought hurt more than John liked to admit, so more often than not he'd ignore it altogether. Still he couldn't help wondering how they could be so intimate with each other in one moment and so platonic again the next. It messed with his senses, threw him off balance when he was around her, even though _she_ seemed to be taking everything in such stride. It convinced him that Donna had to be wrong in her assumption that Rose felt anything more for him. Still he envied the way she seemed to be able to detach herself so fully from what they were doing.

John sighed, drumming his fingers absently on the table, not even trying to pretend anymore that he was actually studying. There was no use, not when his eyes kept drifting to her, taking in the graceful slope of her neck, the way her hair was beginning to curl at its nape due to the humidity, the way she was chewing distractingly on the soft, supple skin of her bottom lip. An action he was looking forward to repeating the next time they met up. At this thought John forced his eyes away, cursing himself for being so besotted, for the beginning curling tendrils of arousal that were weaving erratic patterns in the vicinity of his stomach.

Suddenly there was a thud, and John startled from his thoughts and looked over to where Rose's head had just crashed dramatically into her open book, a noise of frustration passing from her lips, a noise that unwittingly had his mind racing to all the other times he'd heard such a similar sound issue from her in a distinctly different setting...

John shook his head, forcefully banishing the thought. "Maybe we should call it a day on the studying," he suggested, proud of the way his voice didn't falter over the words.

"Hmm, good idea. I don't think reading the same sentence over and over again is really doing much good for me at this point."

John grinned. "Well, you know, full of good ideas, me."

"Full of yourself more like it," she quipped.

John smirked, opening his mouth with a ready retort, before promptly closing it again, thinking better of his words. She might've told him once that their arrangement didn't come with rules, but nevertheless there was the unspoken rule of never discussing anything related to their deal outside the bedroom.

There was an awkward pause as Rose seemed to pick up on the path his mind had just taken. John coughed and weakly said, "So, want to head out then."

She was already packing up her things, haphazardly shoving lofty textbooks into her bag before slinging it over her shoulders. "Yeah, definitely."

"Cool, yeah, umm, why don't we go and get..." John trailed off, the end of his sentence burning his tongue, demanding release from his mouth. But nervousness gripped him too tightly. He'd never been the one to suggest going to get chips since their arrangement had started. It seemed that another one of their not-rules was that she made the decisions when it came to anything relating to their deal. It had been her idea after all and it seemed only right somehow that she set the pace for it. John didn't want to in any way make her uncomfortable and subsequently drive her away. Not when things already felt so precarious.

"Get what?" Rose asked curiously. John opened his mouth, just about ready to spit the word out, despite his doubts, when a booming voice suddenly echoed across the otherwise quiet room.

"Rosie!"

At the sound of the voice, a giant smile bloomed across Rose's face and she looked up delightedly at the handsome man that was making his way towards their table at a brisk pace.

"Jack!" she greeted back, jumping up so she could fling her arms around his neck. Jack's own arms snaked around her waist, lifting her high up off the ground so he could swing her around. She giggled as he set her back down, her cheeks flushed and eyes warm and happy. John felt something tighten uncomfortably in his stomach as he watched.

"How've you been gorgeous?" The man asked before turning curious eyes on him, a lascivious smile lighting up his face. "And who's your friend?"

"Oh!" Rose said, glancing over to him. "John this is my friend Jack, Jack this is my...umm, this is John." At her stumbling words, John felt his stomach tighten even further.

"Hello," the grinning man said, holding out his hand. "I'm Jack Harkness."

John reluctantly took the hand, trying to tamp down on his sudden nausea. "John Noble."

"Nice to meet you," Jack practically leered.

John shifted awkwardly on his feet. "And you."

Everyone knew _of_ Jack and John was no exception to this. The other man's reputation as a shameless lothario often made him the topic of much gossip around campus. He flirted with nearly everyone, men and women alike, and his bed-post was filled with notches as the rumors went. But...but John'd had no idea that the other man was apparently good friends with Rose.

John's unease only grew more as he watched them interact, the way Jack flirted heavily with her, laying the charm on thick. Granted, the other man was flirting with him as well, but it still made his blood boil to watch the way he leered at her, the way he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, the way he so easily dropped a dazzling array of compliments right at her feet when John himself couldn't even express to her how beautiful he thought she was when he was divesting of her clothing, scared to cross any forbidden lines. What was worse though was the natural way she flirted back with him; touching her tongue between her teeth, laughing at his jokes and blushing heavily at his innuendos. It made John jealous right down to his bones, made doubts start brewing in the back of his mind, made pounding anger flow through his veins. Because that was _his_ smile, that should be her laughing at _his_ jokes, that should be...

Nothing. He had no claim over her, despite what the fading bruise on her inner thigh might say. He had no right to be jealous.

John focused on calming his breathing.

"-just remember," Jack was saying as John tuned back in to the ending of their conversation, "my offer still stands." The he winked and was sauntering off, but not before leaning down to give Rose a light peck right on the lips.

John felt something in himself snap. He growled, a primal instinct building up deep inside of him that he couldn't seem to restrain. In a sudden burst, he had Rose's hand firmly ensconced in his and he was dragging her from the library.

"John, John where are we-" she trailed off as he reached his destination, an abandoned cupboard. He dragged her firmly inside, closing the door and bathing the room in darkness. Then he pounced. Lips clashed together in an awkward fumble, the darkness and cramped space making it difficult to coordinate their limbs. John blindly reached out a hand in the darkness, coming in contact with a chain that hung from the wall and promptly pulled it in order to cast a dim glow on the room. With the added light they were able to untangle themselves and come together again, lips crashing to lips and bodies pressed firmly together.

John raked his hands down her side, all the while devouring her mouth and fancying that he could completely erase the other man's taste from her lips. She matched his ardor, one hand coming up to yank at his hair and scratch along his scalp, her other slipping immediately down to palm at his growing erection.

John broke the kiss just as he felt himself going light-headed from lack of oxygen. When he met Rose's eyes, ragged breaths being torn from his throat, he noticed the way her head was tilted slightly to the side as if she were seeing him for the first time, her gaze questioning and troubled.

"Doctor," Rose finally said, nearly as out of breath as him. "What's going-"

"John. Say _John_," he hissed, before bringing his lips back down to hers. Despite his command he didn't give her a chance to speak again, his tongue diving quickly into her mouth, moving insistently against hers.

Raw. He felt so raw and so tired, his emotions threatening to strangle him. Couldn't she see what she was doing to him, what she was reducing him to? Couldn't she see how in love with her he was? Was he not disgustingly obvious about it?

John trembled, emotions moving through him and bubbling over like hot lava. His hands met the clasp of her jeans, spurred on by some unnamed motivation, one that made no sense to his jumbled thoughts. He pushed the fabric down her legs, taking her knickers with it. She stepped out of the fabric, her eyes unreadable as she did. He worked on his own trousers, shoving them and his pants down his legs in quick jerks, not bothering to step fully out of them, instead moving his hands to her bum and urging her upwards.

Rose took the hint, bracing her arms on his shoulders and jumping up so that her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her back against the small space of wall behind her. They fumbled for another moment, working to arrange themselves properly so that they were lined up. Then he was sinking into her, the feeling of her wet walls surrounding him pulling a long moan from his lips. Then he jolted.

"Shit," he said, feeling mortification heat up his face. "Condom. Forgot a condom. Oh _god_." Her nails were digging into his shoulders, her inner muscles squeezing him tightly and the thought of pulling away was unthinkable.

"'S fine. On the pill. Have been for a while, just like the, ah, extra precaution. But it's fine." Her eyes darkened and she met his, that look that he couldn't even begin to understand back in her eyes. "Now fuck me, _John_."

At the sound of his name falling from his lips, her tongue curling around the word in the most wonderful of ways, John felt any and all control snap. His lips parted in a groan, his eyes fell shut, and his hips began rocking forward.

Maneuvering was difficult. He'd never had sex against a wall before and he found that not two minutes in and his arms were already burning, sweat beading on his skin in exertion making it very difficult to keep a solid grip under her bum. Rose seemed to be too far gone to notice the increasing trembling of his limbs. One of her hands was pressed against the wall providing extra support, the other was lost between her legs, rubbing furiously at her clit. She was making small choked sounds in the back of her throat, but otherwise was uncharacteristically silent as he worked his cock deeper and deeper inside of her, hoping he could get them both there before all hope of staying completely upright was lost.

Then Rose suddenly keened, her whole body going rigid as she convulsed. John scrabbled to keep his grip on her, burying himself deeply to the root and holding her firmly in place as she rode out her orgasm. She didn't cry out as she usually might, but the intensity of it was written all over her face, her lips moving, forming a word over and over, though no sound came out.

His name, he realized, with a sudden burst of arousal so shocking and lightening hot that it tipped him right over the edge, the orgasm ripping through him and buckling his legs.

They crashed to the floor in a tangled, heaving lump. Pleasant aftershock still pulsing through his cock, masking the painful landing. Rose was winded, the air having been knocked out of her lungs, but for the most part she seemed to be alright, her face still conveying rapt pleasure.

It took them a moment for their heads to clear enough for them to begin working on disentangling their limbs. When they were both up again, pants and trousers rightfully sorted John grabbed Rose into a fierce hug, burying his face into the side of her neck. Rose hugged him back just as tightly, a shaky sigh leaving her lips as she comfortingly stroked the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry about the name thing," she finally said after a moment in a small voice. "I thought you liked Doctor. I thought...I thought you were getting off on it."

John felt himself freeze, felt the emotions crashing into him in waves, felt words clawing up in his throat, choking him. Angry words and accusations, confessions and apologies, they struggled in equal measures to move past his lips. Donna's words were playing in his ears to just _tell_ her.

"That's not..." he finally settled on, "that's not the _point_! The point is that I'm in- that I l-" John shut his mouth with a click, pulling back from her, putting much needed distance between their bodies. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, throat not working. He looked at her helplessly.

Then turned and left.

* * *

He was sitting in his room atop his bed, surrounded by the remaining stars from his ceiling, when she came to see him. She shuffled into his room, nervously playing with the zip of her hoodie, and met his eyes. He looked away, back to the comforter, back to his stars. He heard the door click as his roommate, the one who'd let Rose inside in the first place, quietly slipped out. Mickey had always been a good bloke.

"Hey," Rose said softly, breaking the silence.

"Hey." His voice broke over the word.

She cleared her throat, opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, before she could berate him for his behavior, before she could reject him, before she could do any of the other number of things he had spent the last few hours imagining, John cut her off.

"I'm sorry," he said, still refusing to meet her eyes.

There was a pause.

"What for?"

John scoffed under his breath, a self-deprecating laugh bubbling up from his lips. The better question would be what wasn't he sorry for.

Rose's face screwed up in a scowl. "No, seriously John," he flinched, "what do you think you have to be sorry for in this situation?"

John's eyes stared somewhere over her shoulder. "I've made a mess of things and after you said you weren't looking for anything complicated...I...I shouldn't have agreed to this. I thought I could handle it, but I really can't, Rose. I'm sorry." He still wasn't looking up at her.

Rose moved closer, coming to sit on his bed with him in order to take his hand. "John, what's going on? Was this about Jack, because he-"

At this John finally looked up to her, his eye boring into hers. He shook his head and brought a hand up to cup her cheek. He steeled his nerves, calmed his breathing, closed his eyes and surged forward so that their mouths met, giving his explanation in the only way he could think to do when his words were failing him so tremendously.

He'd kissed her many times by now, knew his way around her mouth, but this kiss was vastly different to any of those. This was what John had been longing for, not the desperate snogging with sloppy tongues and groping hands that had preluded a majority of their encounters (although those kisses were obviously quite brilliant as well), but the loving press of skin to skin. Gentle, chaste, and tender, lips brushing lips and emotions being translated by the soft rhythmic movements of their mouths. It was short, sweet, just long enough for him to get his point across. When he pulled back he leaned his forehead on hers, his thumb gently stroking across her cheek and small puffs of air from his nose being released against her skin.

There was no way she could have misinterpreted that, John decided, reluctantly moving away, his vision cast downwards again and his hand running through his hair. Just to make sure, however, he cleared his throat. "I just...I can't do casual, Rose. Not anymore. Not...not with you."

Rose's hand came up to touch her lips. "John-"

"And I just...I realized that if that's all you want, something casual, I can't be that person. Not when I- Jack, though, he seemed like he'd be a good, umm, candidate I suppose for, you know, something like..." John made a gesture.

Rose's face had transformed during his rambling, the features alighting with understanding and something else that he couldn't identify. She was hesitantly smiling, however, a smile that was doing funny things to his insides. "Rose?"

Her smile grew wider and she moved closer to him, a hand coming to rest on his thigh. "The problem with that plan is that I don't want Jack. I want you."

John looked pained. "I told you Rose, I _can't_-"

"Shh," Rose said gently. "Just listen for a second. I want you. I've _always_ wanted you."

John's heart skipped a beat at her words. He gaped at her, trying not to let the hope rise too rapidly. A question grew in his eyes.

She answered it by kissing him. A kiss that mirrored the one he'd just given her, gentle and loving, her finger stroking along his sideburn, her lips moving in tandem with his. When she pulled back, her breathing was heavier, and in a breathless voice she said, a touch of guilt creeping into her words, "I thought this," she gestured between them, "this thing we started would help to get it out of my system because, like I said before, you never seemed interested in anyone so I just...I assumed you weren't interested in me."

John looked at her incredulously. "Rose, the reason you've never seen me interested in anyone else is because it was you who I couldn't get out of my head. I thought-I thought it was all rather obvious."

"Not really," Rose said, shrugging. "You can be a closed book at times, John." She picked up his hand again, brushing her thumb along the back of it. "I just always thought you didn't feel the same. That's why...I thought if I was with you, at least once, that I'd get over it, as it were." A shadow crossed her face. "Plus I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want to get hurt again and you...you have the power to hurt me much worse than Jimmy ever could. I realized rather quickly however I wasn't going to just get over my feelings for you." Rose looked away. "It was a stupid idea in the first place, what I did. I should have ended it, I knew I should have but I couldn't bring myself to. So then, I needed some way not to lose myself too completely in what we were doing. That's where the _Doctor_ thing came in. I didn't mean to hurt you with that. With any of this." Rose bit her lip. "I didn't want to get hurt but instead I ended up hurting you. I'm...I'm so sorry, John."

John cupped both her cheeks, brushing his thumb along the apples. He felt hurt, of course he did, and also a little betrayed. But hadn't he, in a way, done the same thing to her? Used her (at least he thought he was using her) in order to get what he wanted? In that case both of them shared a bit of the blame and it was likely to take a bit of time before either of them could fully trust each other again. Mostly, however, John just felt elated that he would no longer have to hold his feelings back.

"It's okay, Rose. I agreed to it after all, even knowing how in love with you I was. I let it get out of hand, too."

Rose was looking up at him speechless, her eyes gaining a glassy sheen as she whispered, "You're in love with me?"

John squeezed her hand then sheepishly, he admitted, "Since day one."

"Oh, John," Rose sighed, moving forward and wrapping her arms around his neck to drag him down so that they were lying across his bed together, face to face. "We've been so thick."

"Yeah," John said, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her closer, burying his face into the side of her neck. "We have." Then in a small voice, "You know I would never do anything to hurt you, Rose. Don't you?"

"I do," Rose said letting out a contented sigh. There was a moment's silence before Rose spoke up again, "This is nice. I could get used to this." She burrowed further into his embrace and John smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"I always wanted you to stay afterwards so we could have a cuddle," he admitted. "Too scared to ask, though. Didn't seem like something people in our, erm, situation would do."

"Still, we have all the time in the world now, I suppose." John made a happy hum in the back of his throat, and then gently skimmed his nose along her cheeks until his lips had found hers again. There was no rush as they kissed, just their lips coming together over and over.

When they slowly broke apart, Rose moved her lips against the shell of his ear and whispered, "I love you too, by the way." John's stomach flipped at the unexpected words and he felt warmth fill him up, chasing away any lingering doubts or guilt.

"You know," John said. "I have a confession to make too."

"And what is that then?"

John's cheeks tinted just the slightest bit pink. "I _was_ getting off on the whole Doctor thing. I...I wouldn't be opposed to more of it, although, not every time."

Rose looked up to him. "Yeah? You're not just saying that?"

"Not at all," he said huskily.

Rose beamed at him, but then her eyes just as quickly furrowed and in a lightning fast movement she pulled one of the plastic stars out from under her with a quizzical look. "Right, I was gonna ask earlier...What did you take these down for?"

John coughed, embarrassed. "Just...well, didn't really think that they were doing me doing me much good. Not when I first got back here at least, not after...Luckily you set me straight rather quickly."

Rose grinned slyly and slung a leg over his hips, suddenly straddling him. She leaned over him and whispered huskily, "Then how about after I make all your wishes come true, _Doctor_, we can work on hanging those stars back up together." She nipped at his ear.

Most of the stars ended up going missing, caught in the whirlwind of their passion as they were, but John decided that he liked the stars that she caused to burst behind his eyelids much better anyway.


End file.
